


Empty Gaze

by julliel



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Insecurity, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:12:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2695940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julliel/pseuds/julliel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Darcy first meets Steve, she knows she's in trouble. It isn't the huge, burly muscles that catches her eye, nor the patriotic cut of his all-American jawline, no. It's the deep blue of his eyes. The whirling, dark ocean that looked at nothing and reflected nothing. At that moment, she wants nothing more than to be the one who haunts those waters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty Gaze

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ode to every girl who felt she wasn't good enough and wanted to change in order to find love. You're perfect as you are. Don't let anyone tell you differently. I love you.

When Darcy first meets Steve, she knows she's in trouble. It isn't the huge, burly muscles that catches her eye, nor the patriotic cut of his all-American jawline, no. It's the deep blue of his eyes. The whirling, dark ocean that looked at nothing and reflected nothing. At that moment, she wants nothing more than to be the one who haunts those waters.

 

She very rarely wants anything for herself. She is a simple girl with simple tastes. She moves with the flow more often than not, which is how she ended up at Stark Tower with Jane as her new (paid!) assistant. She is content with being who she is and only takes what is offered to her, not complaining when if it is taken away – ipod notwithstanding.

 

However when she gazes into his eyes, she suddenly wants to do whatever it takes for him to gaze back.

 

It starts small. Deliberate encounters in the hallway. Well-timed meetings in the communal areas. All the while, trying to to chat him up to reveal himself to her with about as much charm as she could muster... to no avail. That is, until she directly asks him what he likes.

 

“Hey-o, Steve-o,” she says casually, belying the true nervousness in her heart,” What kind of gal do you like anyway?”

 

His eyes grow dim for a second, and his mouth curves downwards before schooling it into what Darcy dubs his “fake as hell, charming Captain America face”.

 

“I don't think you can be her, Miss Lewis,” he says. The words are mocking, but his tone is sweet. Darcy wonders which one shows his true feelings.

 

“Try me. I can do it!” And she will. She'd never gone so far for any guy, but there's a strong feeling in her gut that tells her he's worth it.

 

“If you think so.” His smile turns a little mean. “I like the kind of dames from my time. Vintage, I guess they say nowadays. With permed hair and pin-up bodies with clothes to match.” Darcy suddenly feels self-conscious in her oversized sweater and worn out leggings. “I like a spit-fire personality and womanly confidence.”

 

He leans in a bit and raises his brows at her. “But I haven't seen anyone like that around. Have you?”

 

She wants to nod, wants to agree that yes she is nothing of those things and good luck finding a woman so worthy. But she'd already decided and will see this through to the end.

 

So with a confidence she doesn't really possess, she says, “Just you wait, Captain.” She turns on her heels and leaves him to his thoughts. She's got some research to do.

 

=

 

Darcy clicks through the seemingly endless pinterest boards and tutorials online. She'd never done anything like this before, but she'd seen the beautiful women that have and found herself envious of them. She never made a conscious decision to stand out so blatantly, content she was with her intellect and sure that the man she'd eventually fall for would like her the way she was.

 

But she fell hard and fast for Steve Rogers instead, and he wanted something (relatively) simple. Not difficult at all.

 

In fact, it gave her the bit of courage she needed to try it.

 

=

 

“What do ya think?”

 

His gaze racks up her totally transformed body, taking in the old cut of her dress and the vintage curls he hadn't seen in months (decades if you count the time spent in ice). His mouth drops in awe.

 

“Wow.”

 

Her posture exudes poise but the insecurity in her eyes and the tremble in her high-heeled ankles give it away. “You like?”

 

“You-I, uh, yes.”

 

His stuttering fills her with vindication, and she feels like her transformation was worth it.

 

She lowers her voice into a husky tone. “Do I pass inspection, Captain?”

 

His eyes unexpectedly darken, and his tongue darts out unconsciously to her his lower lip. “Indeed you do, Miss Lewis.”

 

“I think I should get a little reward for doing such a great job, don't you think?”

 

“What did you have in mind, Miss Lewis?”

 

She smirks in response.

 

=

 

They end up going to dinner that night.

 

At first she felt self-conscious, feeling the stares follow them where they walk. She's not used to this kind of attention and even told him so when he replies, “You're so gorgeous, they can't take their eyes off of you, doll.”

 

The way the old-timey nickname flows through his lips as he blushes gives her a flutter in her stomach. He continues to compliment her, the high she gets from them reaching all-time levels, and she thinks what a waste it is that she didn't try this earlier.

 

Whatever reservations she may have had about this decision fades away when she hear his real laugh for the first time. It's like all his barriers had gone down and left standing in the wake is the awkward kid from Brooklyn who only became Captain America cause he couldn't run away from a fight. He's totally different from what she'd been expecting, but she finds she likes this Steve much better than the one she built in her head.

 

For that matter, she likes who she is with him much better too.

 

They go on several dates after that, and Darcy's more and more convinced that this is love.

 

=

 

The motorcycle slows to a stop, head lights switching off as Steve kicks the stand out.

 

She couldn't believe she convinced him to drive over here. The isolated hill outside of town is quite a drive away from the city, but the smattering of lights gives this patch of land some romance. She'd known about this spot from a former date (the relationship was over way too early to call him a boyfriend and calling him just a friend sounds stupid) who also heard about it from someone else. After dinner she told Steve she didn't want to go home and he more than happily obliged.

 

They get off the bike, and she wastes no time in pressing her body against his.

 

“Please,” she whispers against his lips, “please touch me now.”

 

His eyes dart around on the lookout for any passersby on the empty road yards away from them, but his hand journeys down to cup her through her pencil skirt. “Yes?”

 

She answers him by softly thrusting against that hand. Then he wastes no time getting to business. His hand darts down and up under her skirt, scrunching the fabric up her legs, nimble fingers pushing her panties to the side and caressing the lips they find.

 

She falls back till her butt sits on his bike, her leg free to spread a little wider. She's hot and slick in no time, and Steve plunges two fingers in to the knuckle, catching her increasingly loud moans in his open mouth. He scissors them back and forth. Darcy proceeds to hump his hand.

 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chants under her breath.

 

The noise is filthy and loud in the silence of the night. It turns her on even more.

 

He pumps his fingers in and out of her, adding a third when he feels she's wet enough, a circling thumb to her clit and she. Is. Gone. She clutches at him, body seizing and voice keening into his comforting shoulder.

 

When she comes back to Earth, he sets her clothing to rights and adjusts her to sit safely on his bike. He kisses her on the forehead before placing the helmet on her head.

 

“My place?”

 

She eyes the tell-tale bulge in his pants. She nods.

 

=

 

She loves being with him. She'd never felt love like this with any other man before. She never felt so worshiped and adored. He takes his time with her, content with exploring the lands she had to offer without paying a whit of attention to his own erect cock.

 

He likes to eat her pussy with his eyes closed. His tongue runs zig-sags against her lips before taking one between his teeth and nibbling on it. He could do this all day, if she'd let him, but she's too eager to come with him inside her.

 

“Oh please, Steve, I need you.”

 

Her pleading cries spur him up to his knees. He caresses her thighs, spreading them even wider before settling himself inbetween them.

 

He looks down at her as pushes his cock inside of her. “You're so beautiful. So sexy.” She looks up at his eyes, sees herself reflected in the dark blue pools, and it's the loveliest sight she's ever seen.

 

=

 

The siren call of greasy food emits from the paper bag next to Jane. Darcy pokes at it, wanting to have them, but controlling herself. She never understood girls who survived on a diet of compliments, but she can see the appeal. Not eating junk food is a small sacrifice to make for getting her body as beautiful as possible.

 

Jane, probably having heard the crinkle of the paper bag near her, asks, “Erik came by with some cheese fries. You want some?”

 

“No thanks.”

 

This makes Jane look up and really notice her assistant for the first time in what seems to be months.

 

“Are you on some kind of diet?”

 

Darcy shrugs and turns to the computer screen behind her.

 

“You look different,” Jane remarks offhandedly.

 

Darcy looks up from the notes she'd been entering into the computer. She'd begun wearing her new clothes to work on the off chance that she would catch Steve during the day. “How so?”

 

She's still getting the hang of these kitten heels. They're not much in height compared to regular heels but after a full day's work she can feel the burning strain in her feet.

 

“You're not wearing your comfy clothes. I remember you saying once that dressing up like this is a waste of time and effort.” Trust Jane to be incredibly observant about other people at the most inconvenient time.

 

“I don't know. I'm just trying out some new things and I kinda like this stuff okay?”

 

Jane continues on like she doesn't hear her lame excuse. “I mean, the last time I saw you like this, it was over some guy you were trying to impress.”

 

Darcy's guilty silence says it all.

 

“Darcy!” Jane scolds, “Whoever he is, he's not worth it, okay?”

 

Darcy mashes her lips together to keep from saying anything. Yes, he's totally worth it! This is Captain America! Not only that, he's Steve, Steve Rogers, who makes her feel like she's beautiful and remarkable. But she doesn't tell her that because Steve's not ready to break the news that he's no longer single.

 

Jane sees the fierce look on her face and the fire of her anger cools down into sympathy. “Darcy, you are amazing and wonderful all on your own. If he wants you to change then he doesn't really love you. You know that, right?”

 

She definitely knows it, but she doesn't want to believe it. No, he loves her for real. Sure that's how they started out, but then he got to know her and fell for her personality. Jane is wrong. That's what she keeps telling herself of the rest of the day.

 

=

 

Darcy walks down the aisle of a shop she'd been frequenting since her chance of style. Jane's word ping-ponged through her head all of last night and she hadn't gotten a wink of sleep as a result.

 

Her phone rings.

 

“Hello, sweetheart.”

 

“Steve!”

 

“What are you up to?”

 

“Oh, you know, just shopping. Why, what's up?”

 

“There's a dinner gathering tonight with all the Avengers. I thought you should come with. It's about time you met everyone anyways.”

 

Her heart pounds so loud she can hear it in her ears. It's here! He wants to formally introduce her! This is real and he's proud of her and he wants to be _out_ with _her_. She's so happy she forgets that she hasn't answered him.

 

“Sweetheart?”

 

“Oh! Right, yes! Of course, I'd be happy too!” He sighs in relief like he was expecting her to say no, which is a ludicrous thought but she's not the boss of him. “I'll dress beautifully.”

 

She can hear his smile through the phone. “You always do.”

 

=

 

Despite her nerves, the Avengers like her immensely. Turns out Thor had been spreading around stories of a fierce young woman who felled him with his own element.

 

Tony Stark (Tony motherfucking Stark!) whistles, shakes her hand, and goes, “I'm honored to finally meet you. Is there any chance you can do an encore of that? For research purposes.”

 

Pepper sits by her side and leans against her. “You're very charming, Darcy. I'm so glad Steve found you. He seems happier these days.” She catches Steve's eye and finds he looks very proud to have her here.

 

Later when dinner is over, they all shuffle into the adjacent living room, arguing about which board game to play tonight.

 

Natasha takes Steve aside, not too far away that Darcy can't see or hear but far enough to be considered separate from the group. She sneaks him a few photographs, and from Darcy's vantage point she can see a woman that somewhat resembles her.

 

“From the last mission. It was from an old Hydra stronghold that we infiltrated. I managed to salvage them before we lit up the place.”

 

Steve's gaze grows tender as he strokes the woman's face. “Thank you,” he whispers, “for saving me a piece of Peggy.”

 

“Anytime, Cap.”

 

Of course. How could she forget all those history lessons in high school? The famous Agent Carter involved with Project Rebirth, the one who knew Steve probably even before he became Captain America. A tough-as-nails sort of woman without a smear of her lipstick. God, no wonder Steve wanted her to change. He wanted her to become someone _specific._ He didn't see her at all. She was only the substitute.

 

She quickly turns around and pays false attention to the others' conversations, ignoring Jane's knowing glances. Darcy can't recall a time he had ever looked at her like that. She suddenly wants to throw up.

 

=

 

Steve fucks her hard into the mattress.

 

 _He's more energetic tonight_ , Darcy thinks, as the violent thrust of his hips push her higher and higher up the bed, _Is it because he's thinking of her?_

 

Steve notices her thoughtful mood, mistaking it for something else. “You feelin' tired tonight?”

 

She puts on a winning smile for him, and says, “Nah, let me go on top.” He flips them over, grabs her hips, and resumes his brisk thrusting.

 

She closes her eyes, leaning back and opening her mouth like she does when she's close even though she feels her libido spiraling downwards, and hopes to banish the mutinous thoughts away, but she can't get the memory out of her head. The way his eyes softened at the black and white photo of his lady love. The sad tremble of his lips before he put on the strong Captain smile she knew so well. She was naïve if she thought she could fill that void in his heart. Who is she kidding? There was never any space enough for her to begin with.

 

She continues riding him, hands clutching at his chest, her body moving on autopilot. She doesn't notice the tears falling down her cheeks and spilling onto Steve. God, she's so fucking stupid.

 

“Doll? Darcy!”

 

“Huh?”

 

Steve sits up with a start. His hands brace themselves on her waist. “Darcy?”

 

She really thought she stood a chance. That if only she worked hard enough to be what he liked, to get to know him, to make him happy, it would be enough to make him love her.

 

But she was wrong. So very wrong.

 

She was competing against a memory of a golden girl. _The Girl._ She never stood a chance.

 

Darcy pushes off him, his dick slipping out of her wetly, and swings her legs over the edge of the bed till her feet hit the floor. She scouts for her scattered clothes, hoping her laser focus would help belay the sobs she knew were coming.

 

He puts a firm hand to her arm. “Baby, what's wrong?”

 

“It was her all along, wasn't it? Peggy Carter.”

 

“What are you saying?” If she didn't know any better, she could have sworn that he sounded genuinely confused.

 

“Tonight, when Natasha gave you those photos. I finally knew. When I asked you before we even started, you told me what you liked. I thought-” She struggles into her clothes, hands shaking uncontrollably. “I thought that's what you wanted. I thought I could really be that kind of girl for you. I didn't realize you wanted someone specific.”

 

“I can't do this anymore.” She gives a pitiful sniffle then looks at him with utter calmness, despite the glistening stream of tears down her face. “I really love you, Steve. I only wish you loved me too.”

 

“Darcy, you're wrong. I do love you.”

 

Words she'd wanted so much to hear mean nothing to her now. What was the point if he felt obligated to say them?

 

“Sure you do.”

 

She leaves.

 

=

 

It's been two days since she'd seen Steve. She called in sick yesterday, and Jane, beautiful, all-knowing Jane, tells her to take as much time as she needs. Darcy's glad she didn't say, “I told you so”, which is something she knows Jane likes to do.

 

She surveys all the vintage dresses and pin-up clothing crowding her closet. It would be a damn shame to throw them all away. She spent so much money trying to transform herself for someone who'd never see her for who she is, but she kind of liked the image she made, if only for a little while. She sighs and decides that she can keep them all in a box. She could take them out for special occasions.

 

She makes her way to the kitchen, intent on making something quick and microwaveable. Who cares if it's not healthy or a balanced diet? She's sad and easy-to-make comfort foods make her happy. There's a knock on the door.

 

She makes a lot of noises in the kitchen, slamming the cupboard close, dropping a plate on the counter. Super soldier hearing. Maybe he'll get the hint.

 

The knocks on the door persists. He can be stubborn, but then again so can she.

 

“Fuck off, Rogers,” she yells at the door. A part of her feels terrible for being so uncharacteristically rude, but the rest of her cheers at hackling her defenses so readily.

 

“Please, Darcy, sweetheart. Talk to me please.”

 

“I don't want to.” She pouty and childish, but fuck it. She deserves to blow off a little steam.

 

She had already cried her eyes out for him, and there's nothing in her heart but an aching bitterness.

 

“Please let me explain, doll.” It's the soft way he whispers his nickname for her that does it, and suddenly she feels very tired and not at all angry anymore.

 

She leans her back against the door and slides down till she sits on her welcome rug on the floor. She knows he could hear her and so imagines the thump she hears outside is of him mirroring her motions on the other side of the door.

 

“Peggy was my first love. I'll admit it.”

 

 _Yeah, no shit_ , Darcy thinks churlishly.

 

“And when I first met you, I wasn't in a good place to accept love. I was still bitter and angry at the world that took so much from me, and sent me 70 years into the future. Then you continued popping up into my life. You were so happy and bright and all I could think about was, how dare you try to replace Peggy. You could never replace her.”

 

Okay, this was a terrible idea. She should have just walked away while she was intensely angry at him.

 

“So when you asked, I told you to change yourself. To mold yourself into her. I didn't think you would do it. I thought it would be the final straw that would push you away forever.”

 

It hurt. It hurt to hear him confirm what she'd always known in the bottom of her heart. He didn't like her and tried to hurt her on purpose. Her body feels like lead and she can't find the strength to pick herself up off the floor.

 

“And then... you came back completely changed. You went and did it. I saw you and was completely amazed. I thought, now I have to step out with her and see what she's all about.”

 

So he went out with her out of a sense of obligation? Fantastic. At least this is a mild step up from when he hated her and actively tried to hurt her feelings.

 

“You know what? I don't actually need to hear this. You should leave.”

 

“Darcy...”

 

“I said LEAVE!” The answering silence and the subsequent shuffling noises tell her that he obeys her command.

 

Her head rolls back, hitting the door. She doesn't want to get up anymore. She wants to sit there and cry.

 

But then the shuffling noises come back, and Darcy wonders who in the hell would visit her at this time of night.

 

“I fell in love with you, you know.”

 

She can't believe it. Won't believe it.

 

“I tried really hard not to. I admit that. But then you continued being you. Your self. Your wonderful, unique self. And I was gone. I was gone, and you caught me. And even-” His breath catches. “-Even if you never want to see me again, I want to thank you for being there. For trying so hard for me. And I want you to know that I'm ready to do the same. I don't need the pin-up clothes or the hair or the looks. I will love you for who you are. If you'll let me.”

 

Against her own wishes, her body jumps up and opens the door. Steve stands there with all the hope in his eyes to fill a thousand wishes. She wants to punch him in that stupid, patriotic face.

 

“You're a piece of shit, you know. Treating me that way.” Way to go, Darcy. The way to a man's heart is to verbally abuse him. Nice.

 

But Steve only nods and looks down in shame. “I know.”

 

She grabs him in, kicking the door shut as he passes. In an instant, they're holding each other in a tight hug. Steve peppers kisses into her hair, at her hairline, around her ear, on her forehead. Each time whispering “I'm sorry, I love you, I'm so sorry.”

 

She doesn't realize she's crying until he wipes at her face. He picks her up and takes her to her bedroom. He sets her down gently and climbs in under the covers next to her. She thinks this is the part where sex will happen, but Steve only pulls her to his chest, arms wrapped around her and a hand holding her on the back of her head.

 

It feels safe and right. This is enough for right now, Darcy thinks. Things between them are far from resolved, but what she does know is that her previously thought unrequited feelings are very much reciprocated and that Steve Rogers is still an idiot in matters of the heart no matter if he is an Avenger. She hugs him tighter and hopes that things will seem better in the morning.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Steve, I love you, but sometimes I want to throw a car at your head.


End file.
